Neutrality
by wearwind
Summary: One shot, first part of Mel's Trilogy. F!Hawke. Anders experienced many bad things and struggles with himself all the time, but does it give him a right to hurt other people?


_A/N: The Hawke character that has been used to write that one-shot is not my own. She belongs to Gabulinka, a worderful DA fandom artist. You can find her page at the adress Gabulinka dot deviantart dot com.  
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_Also, the illustration for the end of story (which was an inspiration for writing it) can be found in her gallery. It's called "Hold Me Tight"._

_It's all because of you, Gabs :3_

**Neutrality**

**_part one of Mel's trilogy_**

Material world looked too vivid for Anders. The lines were too strong, the lights too bright. He learned not to look up to avoid ridiculously shining sun, his eyes narrowed and blinking every time he was forced to leave the Darktown. The colors of world outside was just too light and cheerful, full of joy and beauty, things of whose he cared no more. He slowly became addicted to the dark brown walls seeming to make their own slow fall on the filthy streets; addicted to that dirty, warm air, unclear and full of fog of unknown origin; addicted to mechanical healing, barely thinking about his patients and focusing on the sound of raindrops violently hitting the roof of his clinic. Autumn was coming to the Free Marches and Anders was thankful for that. Cold, wet fog was covering the painfully clear shapes, extinguishing flaming colors, making the world look more similar to –_ his Home_ – the Fade.

It was becoming more and more harder to stay still, not showing himself with his just rage to the templars. He had to learn to wait. The time was coming, he knew it, he _felt _it. No more mages hiding and apologizing the world for the gift the Maker himself had given to them. No more templars lawfully destroying innocent people, murdering their minds in the more cruel way than they could ever manage with their bodies. No more running away. No more despair. No more hesitation. No more. No more.

"_No more_", repeated Justice. "_We are one soul bonded with the Fate we are given. It is our duty to fight in the name of Justice._" When the words came to him in his head, he wasn't sure if it was spirit or his own thoughts. It was often like that those times.

"Hey, you!" Blissful, familiar greeting cut the air and fell into Anders' ears like an arrow. It was too bright. Too happy. He felt the pain starting to pound in the rhythm of his heart underneath his forehead.

"Melinda", he said blankly.

She. And her eyes – eyes that he'd been trying to avoid for so long. Looking at them were even worse than looking up to the sky; that unbelievably painful sun hadn't at least those sparkles of happiness, humour and innocence glistening in beautiful brown irises. She was everything the Fade would never be; she was vivid, shaped, untouched by the fog – even if she was a bit wet now, bumping into his clinic from the rainy filthy streets of Darktown. She was strong proof of materiality.

She was… not his.

"Are you done with patients?", she asked, coming near him to sit on one of his wooden tables.

"For today, yes."

"So why don't we just pretend that you're a simple working man going home after the tiring day?", she said and he forced himself not to watch her full lips move and curve into a precious smile. "We could have some fun on our way back."

"I'm not going anywhere", he said dryly. "My home is here. And I will never be a simple man."

"Isabela uses to say to me that every man is simple when you know about him everything worth knowing."

"Isabela is a fool who knows nothing", he replied angrily as he barely controlled his mouth. He realized what he'd just said when he spotted her widening eyes. He bowed his head, feeling even worse. "I'm sorry, Hawke. I- I think I'm just tired."

The shock in her eyes disappeared immediately, replaced by the thing that was much worse – a painful concern.

It was too much to bear. He looked away.

"I don't deny you are tired, Anders", she said mildly, "but it's not the whole thing. What's going on with you? Please. You know you can tell me everything."

He shook his head. He _knew _that wasn't right. After so much she have done to him, protecting him against templars and Darktown bandits, _he _should have been the one asking about her mood. _He _should be the one helping her with her problems, trying to repay the debt that was increasing day after day of his living. Repaying debts was just and rightful. Justice seemed to understand it. But there was nothing he could do to show her that he _tried_ to manage it. Everything he could ever give to her was already hers; his magic, his fears, his faith, his hopes, his heart.

And it wasn't enough.

"I know, Melinda", he said with his voice harsh and rough, but not trembling. That awakened a tiny spark of his pride. "It's nothing more than always."

She looked at him studiously. "There's something with the Circle, right?"

He tried to stop the rage, but it floated in him like a poisoned source. "Yes" was all he could say without losing himself in the flame of Fade-shaped fury. He felt that Justice awakened in him and he suddenly cared no more for the words. "Bloody Void, yes! I've had an ally in Circle, a young one, an adept... She was powerful, strong-willed mage. Yesterday was the day of her Harrowing".

"She died." It was a statement, not a question.

"They killed her!" In impulse, he grabbed her arm and clenched his fingers on her wrist, strongly, painfully. He could feel her body tense, but she didn't move back.

_She trusts me_, he suddenly realized and it calmed a bit the blind fury inside him.

"She was in the Fade with me before", he said, his voice blank again, "and she never gave up fighting with demons. She was just too powerful for the templars, they were afraid they couldn't control her. I wanted her to run away before the Harrowing, but she said she was the most important spy in the Gallows and she couldn't let our alliance suffer because of her own personal needs..."

He stopped and looked at Melinda. She was glancing at him with sorrowful expression in her young face.

His fists unclenched softly, letting her remove her palms from his - but she didn't do that. She raised her fingers and stroked his arm, calmly, mildly.

A little light of hope began to shine in his dark mind, away from rage, regret and fear. Quick, desperate thoughts began to chase under his forehead. Maybe she knew about his feelings. Maybe she finally went past that gloomy elf, whatever he'd done to her years ago. Maybe she was here to become his, finally, after all this time of troubled dreams and heart broken into smallest pieces over and over with every her smile; maybe the love he felt for her, the love he hated, denied, feared, disbelieved... Maybe his love would be returned.

But that was such dangerous thinking. "_This is not right_", said the voice in his mind and again, he wasn't sure if it had been Justice or just his own voice of reason. When his friend, young girl, not even twenty-years-old, had sacrificed the very herself for their greater goal, he was still so selfish and careless of the consequences.

Love. Love was for the free ones.

Then he thought about Melinda, looking on her fingers resting on his arm, and felt even worse than before. How dared he think, just think, that he could ever give her what she needed? He, the possessed leader of mage rebellion, the abomination tainted by darkspawns' blood as well as by the fury of Vengeance?

Even if she accepted him, which would be unbelievable - but Melinda had been able to do such things, he had seen it himself - he couldn't bear the thought that if it happened, he would lose her forever. She was the only pure person in the world of wicked; if she chose him, he'd be her taint.

"Anders", she said softly. He flinched as she gently touched his shoulder. "Are you all right? You suddenly seemed so far away from here..."

"I were, I think..." He smiled weakly. Hearing his own name from her lips was a pleasure and a torture at once. It made him imagine how it would be to hear it with no concern, pain and distance, but with passion - with need...

_Stop. Stop it, before you go too far. _

"I don't think you have time for me, Melinda", he said, moving away from her palms. She looked at him with those bright shining eyes he could never - he had always - he just-

"Don't look at me like that!', he screamed. His gut twisted when he saw the surprise and pain on her face. "Do you think your concern will help with anything right now?"

"I don't want to help with _anything_", she replied quietly. It was hard to hear when the echo of his scream still sounded in his ears. "I want to help you, Anders."

"Don't..." He stopped, turning away when she raised her arm again to touch him. "Melinda, I... I just can't... just... "

She. She was so unbelievably... perfect.

She was the only thing he couldn't stop caring about all those years - he had gave up all material goods long ago, he denied himself the beauty and the light, the world started to lose its shapes for his eyes like the constant vision of the Fade. And there, while nothing tamed him back to sacrifice all he had in the name of Justice, she was still here - making him hesitate and... feel.

She was _dangerous._

"I won't let this happen again. Our duty to the Maker will be fulfilled", he said with his voice deeper, and he again barely felt his mouth move.

She laughed nervously.

"Suddenly you sound exactly like a templar."

"They have their duties and we have ours", he replied coldly. "But there's just one side which fulfill them rightfully."

"Anders", she started and the pure, warm sound of his name made him hide his head in palms. "There are no sides here. There are people. Don't see sides and keeps, and politicians, they are just playing games. It's not about Maker and duties to Him, too. There are just ordinary people, innocent mages, who you fight for."

"People will be protected", he said without hesitation. "But there are sides. There are always sides. You have to choose, Melinda."

"Do I?", she said with a little smile. "I'm the blasted Champion of this troubled town. I'd like to see how whoever forces me to do something I don't wish. I'm the guarantee of the balance between mages and templars as well as Grand Cleric, without me and her calming every quarrel they'd have blown each other up long ago. And it's no good for the innocent in blowing things up, I assure you."

She knew? Or it was just a coincident? Anders felt the Justice's rage burning again. "If you don't choose now, the circumstances will make you do."

"Anders, I came here for you, not for ideological talk. Let's sneak out of town and swim in the sea in the moonlight." She smiled again, a little tired, obviously trying to change the subject. "Of course if there was any moonlight, actually, the weather is just mean today. But we can swim in the rain as well, it would be even more fun."

"You are not serious."

She winked. "Of course I am serious. You know I enjoy swimming at night."

"You're not serious about your duties to the city", he specified, or rather Justice specified.

She shook her head, smile disappeared from her face. "You also know that I hate when you let him talk like this."

"There is no him now", he said with his voice deeper. "We are the one."

"So how shall I call you two now? Junders? Anstice?", she asked humorously, but he saw a fear chasing through her face.

"You are afraid of making a decision. I'm asking you", he said, his face blank and strange, his thoughts nearly vanished in the flashes of blue light of the Fade he saw. "Will you support mages, free mages of Free Marches?"

"Anders, what's gotten into you?" She stood up. "I understand, you grieve for your friend, you want revenge, but is it..."

"Answer me, Champion."

"Anders!"

He barely heard her, losing himself in the dim lights of his inner self, the self was once a righteous spirit, but now turned into burning rage and vengeance. "Answer."

"No, I won't support mages!", she cried out and those words turned all his blood into ice. "And neither will I with the templars! You don't understand that if the balance is broken, Meredith will start a genocide? She'll kill everyone of you, she has an army and all the power of mighty Chantry at her side!"

"She already does kill", he answered harshly. "It is hardly an excuse. You seem to believe that if you pretend that everything it right and do nothing, that injustice around will just disappear."

"And now you're just taking out your frustration on me." She leant at her sides. "Fine, fine. I could handle it. Just be at least honest enough to admit that it's about your anger, not my actions or the lack of them."

"It is not."

"Really?" She looked at him with disbelief and then shook her head again, her loose braid flying above her neck. "Anders, I'm trying to understand you, I really am, but I... cannot reach that pain inside you if you don't let me."

"It is not my pain you should care about", he said as his heart was torn into pieces by her look. _It is not right. Not right_.

"You're simple indecisive. You could help us and prevent those deaths of innocent with your powers, but you hesitate. You wait for something to happen, and when you finally react, it's just too late", he heard his voice saying. "Like it was with your mother."

He regretted those cruel words immediately.

She froze and stepped away. There was a flash of unbelievable pain in her warm brown eyes; it was like he'd stabbed her in her back. Then all the warmth turned into hard ice and all her gentleness and softness disappeared entirely, leaving just the face of ruthless warrior.

"How dare you", she hissed, "bringing up my mother into this!" There had been never an expression like this during all those years he'd known her. "You won't turn her death into a card in the game you play!"

"Melinda", he said. Violent fist clenched on his gut - and he felt that Justice was floating away, covered by the overwhelming sense of guilt. It was a betrayal. It was worse than betrayal - even if he was right.

"Shut. Up", she hissed again, like an annoyed anaconda. "You've gone too far, Anders. You're not owning a right to be hurt."

"Melinda", he repeated in weak hope that she would hear an emotion in his voice. He waited for words to come to him, to explain, to beg her forgiveness, to say her that although he was right, he hadn't meant to hurt her so bad, but the words never loved him. They seemed so weak in his mouth, lacking the deep meaning he felt. They always failed him and they did it once more.

"You're no better than Meredith", she said bitterly and walked out.

_You screwed, Anders, _said once again the voice in his head and this time he was perfectly sure that it was his own thought.

"Hawke, are you here? Your dwarven servant told me- ?"

Fine. It was only one thing that had been missed in his show of humiliation and helplessness – the elf.

_That _elf.

Makes had a sense of humour, indeed.

He heard a quick bang and the ring of clashed armor – and then silence. He waited for a while, wanting to hear what she was going to say to elf about his behaviour. But he heard nothing. Were they gone?

He silently moved to the door, looking through them. He froze when he realized what he's looking at.

The elf was hugging Melinda tightly, embracing her with his armored arms and sharp steel gauntlets. She was leaning against him, placing her arms around his lyrium-tattooed neck, her head lying on his chest. She cried; he was gently stroking her back, his eyes fulfilled with care and concern, but also a surprise.

Anders stood there, unseen.

He had failed.

-/-

_A/N: The sequel is called "Objectivity" and can be found in my profile. _

_Please read and review. You don't have to be logged-in for that; just click the "Review that Chapter" link below. Thank you for your time._


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